16 – 16. Second Dispatch

Arundel’s gaze settled on his two daughters.

His eldest, Rianna, and his second, Sharen.

That Rianna would say she’d go to the Malidhean Wall, that was more or less expected.

She was still worried about her husband, Isaac, after all.

But Sharen’s intentions were harder to read.

‘Huu.’

Arundel knew well that he wasn’t a good father.

Grasping the inner workings of his daughters, especially, was quite a trial for Arandel, even more so than his sons.

Particularly Sharen Helmunth, being a rather untamed young thing, made her intentions all the more opaque.

“Sharen, why do you volunteer?”

Sometimes, a direct approach was all that worked.

At Arandel’s question, all eyes turned to Sharen.

They, too, were curious why she’d suddenly decided to go to the Malidian Bulwark.

“Father.”

Sharen placed a hand over her heart and stepped forward.

Young as she was, she was a Helmunth.

Familiar enough with etiquette for her age.

“I have decided to offer myself, having determined it to be the correct course of action.”

“State your reason.”

Do not embellish with useless words.

Arandel, chin in hand, warned, and the ease vanished from Sharen’s lips.

“My, my apologies. My eagerness led me astray.”

Her eyes darted nervously.

Visibly tense, Sharen explained quickly, her words a little too rushed.

“The Sword Omen approaches. It is impossible for my brothers to go, and Sister Rianna must hold her position.”

She paused for breath.

“However, young Edel cannot go, therefore I believe it is right that I, who can wield a Helmunth blade, should go, despite my shortcomings.”

“Hmm.”

Arandel knew the instant he heard it that Sharen was lying.

For a headstrong and self-absorbed girl like her to bring up the greater good as justification?

It was clear there was another agenda.

‘But there’s no reason to refuse.’

Sharen’s going was, in Arandel’s opinion, the most ideal scenario.

A suitable talent who wouldn’t be critical to Sword Omen efforts, while also not being a liability in battle.

Besides, it might do the still-immature Sharen some good to go out to the battlefield and toughen up.

“This is a large contingent. Do not be complacent, and show those gathered there the greatness of the Helmunth.”

With his permission given, Sharen grinned and bowed her head.

“I shall go forth and show the world what the Helmunt Sword truly is.”

A beat.

Arendel’s face seemed to drain of color, turning a shade of gray, though none took notice.

“Father! I—!”

Rianna stepped forward, offering to go in his stead, but Arendel, his mood darkened by Sharen’s recent words, frowned and gestured her away.

“Go outside.”

“……”

That was all.

None present could defy the words of Arendel, head of the family.

And so, everyone departed.

Arendel remained alone in his office, continuing his work.

Yet even then, the weight of Sharen’s resolve circled within his mind.

[I shall go forth and show the world what the Helmunt Sword truly is.]

The Helmunt Sword.

“Haaah.”

A sigh, seeming to carve his wrinkles deeper into his skin.

A voice laced with many shades of lament escaped him.

“Which of you, by the gods, wields the Helmunt Sword?”

His bitter mutterings, like smoke from a graying cigarette, scattered into nothingness.

* * *

Rianna’s steps were hurried.

She meant to rush to Sharen, to beg him to tell their father he couldn’t go to the barrier, but then–

“Riannaa!”

A petulant voice called from behind as she walked the second-floor corridor.

Her eldest brother, Roengreen, approached her with long strides, bellowing.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You pushed Sharen to go, didn’t you?”

“……What are you talking about.”

Though he was a year older, Rianna had long since discarded any pretense of respect for Roengreen.

“If not for you, why else would Sharen volunteer for the Malridian Barrier! It should have been you going in the first place!”

“……”

“You b*tch. So desperate for the family seat, were you? So loath to let your brother have it?”

“Hmph, don’t speak nonsense. How many times must I say it? I have no interest.”

Rianna tried to brush past, ignoring Loewengreen, but he grabbed her shoulder.

*Thwack!*

Rianna’s hand lashed out, striking the eldest son’s grasp away with speed.

For a moment, Loewengreen shrank back, stunned by the murderous intent that promised death upon further contact.

But soon, he was back to his temper tantrum.

“How the hell did you sway Father?! He just ignored the Rose Elixir incident!”

“Haaah.”

Rose Elixir.

The Helmunth potion that boosted physical abilities.

Soon after Isaac departed.

Loewengreen had told Arandel that Rianna had stolen one of the few remaining doses of the elixir—reserved for direct descendants—and given it to Isaac.

But Arandel had barely reacted. No punishment, just a sweeping pass.

“Father knew it was your petty trick, is all.”

The family head wasn’t about to be played by such childish games.

“Perfect timing, Loewengreen. Let me say this clearly. Don’t do anything pointless. Father already considers you his successor. Don’t reveal your incompetence by wasting energy.”

Rianna’s cold, flat words dug in, and Loewengreen’s face contorted.

“So that’s how you’re trying to take the family seat from me? Ha! You’re a fool! Rianna, let me be clear, there is *zero* chance you will become the family head.”

“Oh, hah…”

How on earth could one deal with this thickhead?

A sigh escaped her, and with it, the last dregs of familial affection began to drain away.

“Mother is coming back for the Sword Festival. She will surely give me her support.”

“…”

“Also, when I crush your weak swordsmanship at the Festival, it’ll all be over. You must know our sparring history, right?”

A smug grin spread across Loewengreen’s face.

37 matches. 31 wins. 6 losses.

Loewengreen’s record against Rianna boasted a crushing victory rate.

They hadn’t sparred as much as some family members might, mostly because Rianna intentionally avoided it.

“Ultimately, it’ll be proven by my skill. But if you needlessly try backstabbing…!”

“Right.”

Then, Rianna’s blank eyes widened ever so slightly.

“That’s right.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Rianna’s lips curled into a slight smile, as if struck by realization.

And then.

“Without Isaac, there’s no need to measure by hand anymore.”

“What?”

“To the training grounds, Loengrin.”

Crimson-black fighting spirit burst from Rianna’s entire being. Loengrin was momentarily flustered by the flamboyant scattering of her red aura.

“There’s a limit to how much you can act up.”

Rianna brushed past him, heading towards the training grounds.

* * *

“Gkk, hrrgh?!”

Loengrin couldn’t even muster a proper scream.

He rolled back in a pathetic heap, tangled in his own cloak, his vision obscured.

He had already dropped his greatsword, and his own aura was destroyed, rendered utterly powerless.

The only saving grace.

Was that the duel took place in the now unused underground training grounds of the vast family estate, ensuring no one witnessed his disgrace.

“Loengrin.”

A chilling voice.

The tone, so certain of her victory, filled Loengrin with shame.

Yet, in the duel just moments ago, he hadn’t even been able to swing his sword properly; he had been utterly dominated.

“If I had been after the family head position, I would have taken it by force.”

“…!”

“So, stop being so bothersome.”

With those words, Rianna turned and left.

Loengrin, scrambling to his feet, howled in outrage.

“All this time! All this time you were insulting me?! Hiding such power!?”

“Hah.”

Rianna, pausing her steps, whispered low without turning her head.

“It was because of Isaac.”

“……What?”

“It’s nothing, I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Behind Rianna, Roen-Grin’s desperate voice, wracked with anger, continued to echo.

“I am the eldest son! I, I will become the head of the household!”

“I, I didn’t know, but do you think Father wouldn’t know your skills!”

“Even so, Father will choose me! I, I will succeed Father and become the great Helmont!”

Rianna clicked her tongue at his shouts.

Father knows everything, you say?

‘Of course he would.’

Arandel wasn’t so foolish as to not know the difference in skill between them.

But.

‘That doesn’t matter at all.’

In Arandel’s eyes, the difference in skill between Roen-Grin and Rianna was practically negligible.

It was out of foolishness that he hesitated to choose Roen-Grin.

‘Was there ever anyone who could truly earn Father’s acknowledgement through swordsmanship anyway?’

Rianna ascended to the ground floor.

Passing through the first-floor hall, she was about to head towards Sharen again.

“…….”

A brown-skinned woman in a chef’s uniform, moving busily, came into view.

‘Milly, right.’

She’d seen her talking often and amicably with Isaac.

She was the same age, and she’d vaguely heard that Isaac gave her a gift at the end.

Milly, who had been moving so diligently, quickly bowed her head upon seeing Rianna.

“Young Lady, good day.”

“…….”

Rianna received Milly’s greeting with a blank face. Staring down at her intently, Rianna tossed out a single remark.

“You received a gift from Isaac.”

“……Huh?”

Milly, momentarily flustered by the utterly unexpected words, lifted her head.

But she quickly followed with an answer.

“Y-yes! That’s right. Sir Isaac painted my portrait.”

“Could I see it?”

“Huh? Oh, um, alright.”

Milly led Rianna towards the servants’ quarters, outside of the main house.

Stepping into Milly’s room, Rianna paused, looking around.

Commoner born.

Same age.

Bright disposition.

‘She’s similar to Isaac.’

A woman entirely opposite of herself.

Did Isaac perhaps favor this kind of woman?

While she mulled over it alone, Milly returned with the painting.

“Here it is. I never knew Sir Isaac was so talented with painting too. He’s so versatile.”

Milly praised Isaac honestly.

Even though she knew the two of them would be divorced, Milly, for her part, did not want to speak ill of Isaac.

“Ah….”

The painting was truly impressive.

A portrait of Milly.

Rianna hadn’t known Isaac had such a talent.

“I…”

He never drew even one for me.

Rianna swallowed the words with effort.

She turned on her heel and headed back outside.

“I saw it well, thank you.”

Her footsteps, which took her out without waiting for an answer, were a little lacking in strength.

* * *

The next morning.

“Make sure you’ve packed enough sweets. Wouldn’t want to run short on the road.”

Carriages, lined up at the Helmunt manor, ready to depart for the Malidien Wall.

Sharen Helmunt, perched in the most lavish of them, leaned out the window, barking orders.

Unlike Isaac, who’d only had Jonathan by his side.

This time, to face the swarm, Helmunt’s knights were also joining, a decent number mustered.

“Haa, all this fuss over Isaac.”

Even as she said that, Sharen’s eyes sparkled with a fervent light.

Like a child setting off on an adventure.

Anyone could see she treated the battlefield as some sort of game.

‘My lady, really.’

Kelsi, Sharen’s personal maid, could only worry.

She couldn’t help but fret that Sharen might get seriously hurt going in like this.

‘If her other siblings had come along, it would have been better.’

Especially if Rianna Helmunt were there, Kelsi thought, she’d be much more at ease.

Kelsi was busy loading the baggage wagon. Especially the sweets for Sharen, she sealed them carefully for storage.

Inside the dark carriage.

Between the cargo, something bulged, covered with a white cloth.

‘What’s this?’

Since she was in charge of all the luggage, she lifted the cloth, wondering what it was.

What came into view.

“L-Lady Rianna?!”

Rianna Helmunt, squatted down, face flushed with embarrassment, pleaded.

“P-Pretend you didn’t see me.”